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Anastasia Aug 2019
jagged
and ******
the glass
pierces

dripping
to the ground
red jewels
smeared

it doesn't hurt
anymore
when it rips
into my flesh

it doesn't hurt
anymore
but you do
Tammy Cusick Aug 2019
Withered through these relinquished lips,
softly lays an embellished, embroidered, carcass.
Torn across flesh-like soil
caressing gently into this impermeable being,
you're only human.

So allowing in the presence of indigenous, oblique thoughts
slanting into the belly
never feeling so bare
the hunger deprives.
The nails of your eyes piercing into the forefront of mush you call a brain,
feeling the earth distinctively tremble with each step you chase closer to the ledge

Clutching onto the white knuckle breast
your hands pounding at your fingertips
its electric running through your veins
feeling it at the core
so helplessly, lost.

Your throat knots into one-thousand splinters
splicing relentlessly between your core
the wedge of your mortal body becomes noticeable to your soul
detaching,
jumping.

Slithering one step closer,
pull the rope
you leap
you rot

one more inch closer,
you can feel it
separating your surroundings from comfort ability
picking up between each breath
shaking at your own wake.

there you have it
at the brim of the edge
you've push yourself this close
whats one last jump out of this skin?
SøułSurvivør Aug 2019
Her cheeks a'blooming
Fresh petals
Assuming a charm
All their own....

Flesh roses
In a flute of bone.

Her arms are strong wings
Ethereal beauty, poised
For her journey, as a
Tern is
On its long feathered flight
From the North
She wings her way

To the South
Only to meet
The arctic waste
Once more...

Yet the flesh roses never fade

For they are
frozen with tears.

Catherine Jarvis
8/19/2019
Another poem for the book. This illustration done by Sarah, who has a skilled touch & wonderful imagination.
Asominate Jul 2019
For your fresh flesh,
I have a craving
I find it best
When you're still breathing


I'm wanting you...
Squirming in my teeth
No humans were harmed in the making of this poem... hopefully.
Jo Barber Jul 2019
Bodies seeking bodies.
Flesh longing always,
always,
for more flesh.
Kisses and touches,
once so sweet,
feel empty now.
Keep looking.
Maybe you'll find
something you didn't expect.

Maybe you'll even find yourself.
Anastasia Jun 2019
Underneath the surface
At the edge of the deep
Lie beasts and monsters
Ready to reap
Feeding on fear,
Flesh and blood
Just one taste
Is never enough
Inspired from a boy I knew named David. Hope you got through ❤
Anastasia Jun 2019
shadow blossoms
forming on my flesh
bruises on my ankles
blooming on my neck
blue green purple
yellow and black
a painful rainbow
all over my back
i can't help but hurt myself
with out you here to love me
i hurt myself
because you aren't here to touch me
i just climbed a tree
i took a bad fall
i'm tired of feeling too much
and feeling nothing at all
shadow blossoms
bloom on my arms
drawing blood
under the stars
it hurts but u being gone hurts worse
Anastasia Jun 2019
in an old
old house
there are corpses in the cradles
and an old
delusional woman.
it's reeks of flesh
and baby powder
piled with blood-stained clothes
a "husband" lies
cold in bed
with parts
from "almost-perfect" men
the floor sags
and the stairs creek
the walls echo
with the cooing
cracking
voice
of an old
delusional
woman.
Anastasia Jun 2019
i feel like
uncertainty
is pinching my flesh.
pinching my elbows
my ears
on my neck
my ankles
my stomach
my nose
my toes
this
uncertainty
won't leave me alone.
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